The Queen (Rated: MA)
by ThePrincessProject
Summary: The Selection is over. America Singer is now Queen of Illea. So... Now what? This fanfiction follows the monarchs of Illea as they are forced to grow up, learn, and face new challenges. Rated MA for mature content. ***Disclaimer! I do not own any of the characters or photos used in this fanfiction. I am not affiliated with the photographer or author in any way!
1. Chapter 1

**MST: A note from the author:**

**Hey, y'all! I'm writing this after an extended hiatus from fanfiction. This one is based on the selection, and is rated MA. I hope you enjoy my first chapter, and I will update as often as I possibly can. Please follow, rate and review. PM me with an questions or comments regarding the story.**

**PS. I apologize for any grammatical errors, I typed this first chapter on an iPad during vacation!**

**Roses, **

**Princess**

*Chapter 1: Wedding Night

I tossed myself on to my bed. Our bed. Ours now.

It was so difficult to believe that mere months had passed since the beginning of the Selection and I was a Five. Now, I was the queen. THE One.

I hugged a pillow to my chest and smiled. Our wedding reception had gone so smoothly. Many people had showed up, mostly friends, family, allies. I spent a great deal of the night dancing- with Maxon, May, Marlee, Aspen, even Mom had joined me for a song or two. Now, I was tired, my feet were killing me, and my dress felt as if it weighed a million pounds.

One of my newer maids, Kristine, undid the straps of my heels slowly. I had given Mary the night off so she could attend my reception. She left happy, full, and pretty tipsy with one of the new handsome guards. Maxon was sending off some of our visitors with well wishes, and I had excused myself to our chambers.

"So, is tonight the night, Miss?" Kristine's voice was slightly muffled by the many layers of tulle on my gown.

I practically jumped at her words. "What?"

Kristine emerged from under my gown holding up my delicate heels. "Begging your pardon, Miss. I don't mean to intrude."

"No, no, no. I just had forgotten." I suddenly remembered what crazy lingerie Marlee and Mary had coaxed me into before the ceremony.

Mary had walked into my dressing room with tiny scraps of white fabric held together with what seemed to be the finest threads. "What is this?" I sighed when she set it on the chaise lounge.

"Bridal lingerie," Mary exclaimed, shaking her shoulders at me.

When they finally got me into it, I felt embarrassed. The bra was made up entirely of delicate lace. It seemed so fragile that it felt as if it were holding up my breasts for dear life. Delicate sky blue stones trimmed the scalloped edges, and my nipples were visible, soft and pink peeking through the thin crochet. I resisted the urge to cover my breasts, only because the bottoms were equally as, if not more scandalous. The panties were made with the same fabric, and cut into a bikini style. The back was practically non-existent; it seemed to be just thin strips of lace gathered and held together with a small blue bow. The briefs were as see through as the top, but Mary had fortunately thought ahead to have me groomed in that area the day before.

I flushed as I thought back, but a knock on the door disturbed my thoughts. Kristine quickly rearranged my skirt, and opened the door. As Maxon walked in, she immediately fell into a deep courtesy. "Your Majesty."

"Please. Maxon will do, Kristine. We have discussed this," he smiled warmly at my newest friend.

"Um, yes, your Majesty," she courtesied again. Maxon sighed and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

I rushed over to Kristine. "What do I do?" I hissed.

"Be sexy!"

"Last time I tried that I got laughed at," I cried frantically. "Help me!"

Kristine reached around and pulled out the silver and blue jeweled comb from my hair- a gift from Elise. My tousled red hair fell in waves to my chest. She ran her fingers through it, and pulled a tube of poppy colored lipstick from her bosom.

"Here," she adjusted my crown. "Put this on, ask him to help you get undressed."

"What?"

"Just do it! Trust me!" Kristine ran out.

I heard Maxon finishing up in the bathroom, so I scurried over to the mirror and quickly applied the lipstick. The bathroom door swung open just as I set it down.

Maxon stood before me, his mop of dark blonde hair tousled. His white shirt was unbuttoned, and I saw glimpses of his strong chest and his scar from being shot.

I gulped and tried not to look so visibly shaken. I began to pull pins from my hair to take off my crown, just as he had removed his and set it on the blue pillow made from a soft, plush fabric I had just learned about- velvet. When I was done pulling pins, I turned to Maxon; he was staring at me, eyes glittering. "My America...," he whispered, trailing three of his fingers from my cheek to my cleavage. "My wife. My queen."

"Maxon...," I said softly. He looked up at me as if I had just broken a trance. "Will you help me undress?"

He grinned a lopsided grin. "Yes, my love. " he started with the plethora of buttons on the back of my gown. With every one, I could hear his breath becoming more and more heavy.

Finally, I stepped out of my gown, and turned to him, slightly embarrassed. Even though i was wearing the lingere, I felt near naked, as if my crown was the only thing I was wearing. My nipples were hard now, their soft pinkness poking through the thin lace. I caught a glimpse of Maxon's face before I shied away in embarrassment; he looked like could barely contain himself. "Wow."

He walked over to me, and pulled me into a deep kiss. I felt something leap in my belly, and desire formed in my lower region. Maxon trailed his fingers around my body, and lowered his kisses to my neck. I whimpered in ecstasy.

Maxon took off my crown, setting it on a pillow near identical to his, and pulled me to the bed. I lay down, my hair splayed in all directions, and feet on the floor as I watched Maxon undress. One he was down to his boxers, my breathing hitched. We were going to be naked. I had never seen anyone naked before. I sat up, and tried to calm myself.

Maxon turned to me worried, taking my hand and kneeling to see my face. "America? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I...," I gulped. "I'm just-"

"Nervous?" He asked.

I giggled. "Yeah."

"Me too," Maxon propped himself up with an elbow on each side of my bare thighs, and looked up at me. "You look magnificent."

I sighed. "I don't feel magnificent."

He laughed. "Hey, we'll just take things slowly. Don't feel pressured to rush everything. We can take our time."

I smiled. "Okay." Maxon walked over to the opposite side of the bed, and turned out the chandelier. The only light source came from the vanilla scented candles that be-specked the room, giving the entire chamber a warm glow. Maxon lay down next to me, arm propped up with an elbow. I scooted closer to him. I was cold, and very thankful for the heat from his body.

"So, I have something to tell you."

I turned to him. "What?"

"Since much of the rebel unrest has died down after we destroyed the castes," he started, pulling something out of the end table next to his bed. "I thought we could go on a honeymoon."

"Honeymoon?" The word tasted foreign in my mouth.

"Yes. The upper castes would do this thing after they get married. Basically it's a vacation for a married couple." He handed me a photo. It was a wood house, much bigger than our old one in Carolina, but not enormous. A large porch encircled the house, and tropical looking flowers grew in clusters around, and long sea grass grew is clumps. A much younger version of King Clarkson stood in khaki shorts and sunglasses, a soft white shirt billowed in the wind. Queen Amberly, as beautiful as ever, stood beside him, beaming in a blue and white floral sundress, and a tiny infant Maxon toddled I front of them. In the background, the ocean lapped up against the white sand.

"Oh, Maxon," my heart swelled. "But what about the kingdom? The castle?"

He placed a warm hand on my bare belly. "I'll have to take my work with me, but I think the staff can take good care of the castle while we're away."

I rolled into his arms and hugged him. Maxon pressed his lips to mine and then looked at me, our noses touching. "So... No sex tonight?"

I rolled over. "I guess not. I just don't feel ready."

Maxon let out a teasing sigh. "You seemed pretty ready a few days ago."

I smacked him with a pillow and we both laughed. Maxon suddenly climbed on top of me and kissed me passionately. "Why don't I just give you something to help you relax?"

We kissed, our tongues touching and twining together. Before I knew it, Maxon's hands were on my back, and attempting to unhook my bra. I felt the fabric come loose, and my breasts were exposed. Maxon let out a passionate growl as he trailed his kisses from my neck to my nipples. I felt myself tense and relax. His tongue and lips felt so amazing on my breasts. He kissed, nibbled, licked, and sucked on my left breast as his fingers teased my right. "Your tits are so perfect," he murmured, caressing them won his palms. My arms began to goose bump. He had never spoken to me that way, and I loved every bit of it. I made a satisfactory moan in acknowledgment, and Maxon looked up at me. "Do you like that?"

"Yes," I mumbled guiltily.

Maxon smiled. "Will you let me touch your pussy, my love?"

Now I was breathing heavily. "Yes, Maxon."

He trailed his kisses down my chest, belly, to my nether region. My pussy. Maxon slowly pulled off my panties, and tossed them onto the floor. A burst of pleasure shocked my body as Maxon, began to lick me. A moan escaped, and I feel Maxon sigh between my legs. "Do you like that, baby?"

"Yes," I panted.

"Do you want more?"

"Yes."

"Then say my name," Maxon resumed his work on my pussy. Pleasure pulsated through my legs, making my entire body tremor.

"Maxon..."

His fingers were now working on the very sensitive spot where he was licking me. "Say it."

"Maxon..."

Maxon's hands remained on my pussy as he moved back up to my breasts, kissing and licking them. The pleasure was almost unbearable. "Louder," he commanded, his fingers teasing my spot and my opening.

"Maxon," I moaned. His name on my tongue felt almost as pleasurable as his motions on my pussy. "Oh... Maxon. Maxonnnn!"

His fingers moved faster, so did his tongue, as I felt my pleasure reach an ultimate peak. I screamed and he slowed. Maxon's lips eventually found mine and they kissed me gently until the amazing feeling had subsided. When my breathing had slowed, I opened my eyes and looked up at him. He was soaking in my nude body, his eyes glittering as if in awe.

"Mer, you are absolute perfection," he whispered in my ear, kissing my cheek.

I blushed. He has seen me naked. I still hadn't seen him. I began to hunt for my bra and panties. "What are you doing?"

I swallowed. "Getting dressed." Maxon looked at me, confused. "I haven't seen you naked yet, and I don't exactly think it's fair."

Maxon laughed and slapped his knee. "That is so you, America."

I huffed and got up to find a night gown. Maxon sat up. "America, please don't be mad. I don't want to undress. I feel like I wouldn't be able to stop myself if I did." I turned to him, and suddenly realized what he was talking about. I noticed how... Hard he was. I felt another ache in my loins. He came over to me and embraced me from behind. I felt his erection against my lower back. "You don't have to get dressed, but you can if you want to." He kissed the top of my head and retreated to our bed.

Fortunately for Maxon, many of the night gowns Mary had made for me left little to the imagination. I settled on a very short deep red lace night gown, pretty much completely see through, except for satiny flowers that covered my nipples and nether regions.

Maxon's arms greeted me when I returned to the bed. He pulled the blanket up to my shoulders and pulled me close, my butt against his hardness. He kissed me just below my ear, and I shivered. "Goodnight, My America. I love you."

I snuggled into his warmth. "I love you, too, Max."

He sighed contentedly. "Sleep well."

It was pretty difficult to sleep well with his hand softly fondling my breast through the satin.


	2. Chapter 2

Author Note: Pleeeaaassseeee don't forget to review! :)

Maxon and I awoke to soft knocking at the door. I shifted to ensure I was covered by our lush down comforter and Maxon called to the door. "Just a minute."

I watched as Maxon stretched, his muscles moving under his skin, and rose, headed for the large chest of drawers we shared. He tossed a robe at me, while he yanked on a white tee (darn).

The robe was unlike anything I had ever felt before. It was plush on the inside, yet silken on the out. Just over the right breast was the Illean crest, and over the left, in delicate blue embroidery it said "Queen America Shreave" I shuddered with delight.

Maxon opened the large wooden door. "Her highness is not decent right now. Yes. Thank you." He turned around and was carrying a large tray of food. My stomach growled excitedly.

The chefs had made us eggs with flavorful peppers, truffles, and onions. Toast covered in the sweetest strawberry jam rested on a small plate, next to a huge glass of orange juice.

Apparently the suggestive noises I made while eating my breakfast were intriguing to Maxon. I glanced up to see a curious look on his face. I sighed. "I'll never be able to get over the food."

He laughed. And I sighed again, taking a huge swig of the juice. It was the perfect mix of sweet and bitter. I took another swig, almost finishing off the glass. Maxon was still watching me. "When you've been so close to starving...," I trailed off.

Maxon kissed my forehead. "I know. Never again. Not you, not anyone else. Never."

His comment made me think of something else. "I wonder how Mom and May are doing in the new house."

Maxon smiled. "Why don't you ask them later?" He gathered our empty plates, rising from the bed, kissing me before he walked off. "But for goodness' sake, America, please put something decent on."

I looked at him, confused, before I realized he was commenting on my pseudo-night gown. I squealed, covering my nearly naked body, as he laughed at his own joke all the way into the bathroom.

* Evidently, queens don't typically wear short day dresses. I grumbled as Mary tucked and zipped me into my gown. "There should be a law against this."

Mary, ever the morning person, laughed. "I'm sorry. Queen Amberly hardly ever wore short dresses. I was just hoping to make a regal gown you felt beautiful in, your Highness."

My arms goosebumped at the title. The gown WAS beautiful. Tulle cap sleeves seemed to be soft blue clouds that rested on my shoulders. A delicate scalloped sweetheart neckline emphasized my bust (as if I actually had something to emphasize), and the entire silken bodice was embroidered with the tiniest silver song birds. The gown melted into light layers of soft tulle, starting off thick and poofy, then tapering and thinning out toward the bottom. The layer of tulle closest to the floor was so thin, you could see my ankles and the delicate silver slippers on my feet, which had matching ribbons that wrapped up my legs. The shade of blue was so soft, it felt almost white.

After curling my hair into loose tendrils, Mary pinned my crown into my hair. I finally caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked and felt like a delicate blue fairy. The queen of the fey.

"It's so beautiful," I breathed, touching the soft layers of skirt.

Mary smiled. "Thank you. It's been hard without the other girls. But thankfully Kristine has quite a talent with embroidery."

I touched the little silver birds and thought about my father. "I love it. It's perfect." I turned to Mary with a smile. "But can I put in a request for some short day dresses? Maybe some pants?"

Mary laughed.

** I silently thanked Mary for the flat shoes as I walked down the stairs. I felt as if I were floating as I moved, and less like a galloping horse. The awed looks of the palace staff were enough to know they had accepted me as their queen.

I relaxed in the Women's Room for a large amount of my morning, reading some old novels from the library. The room was much quieter than I had anticipated. I felt sad everytime I glanced up. Kriss wasn't working on her embroidery by the window. Queen Amberly wasn't sitting at the small mahogany desk, writing letters. Celeste wasn't hogging the sofa, reading her mountain of magazines. I smiled at the memory, and was momentarily saddened, until the doors burst open.

"Ames!" May ran toward me.

"May!" I opened my arms, and she ran into them. I glanced over her shoulder and saw Mom walking toward us, a smile on her face. "What are you guys doing here?"

Mom hugged me. "Maxon sent over our driver."

May squealed. "The car is so amazing. It's long and has a fridge!"

Mom and I both laughed. "And the house is perfect." Mom touched my shoulder.

"I'm glad you like it." We all turned at Maxon's voice by the door. May ran toward Maxon, and he scooped her up into a hug. We all laughed.

"Excuse me, sir. This is the WOMEN'S room. Not Some-Random-Guy's Room," I teased. Mom smacked me. "What? It's true."

Maxon laughed as he walked toward us, playfully dragging May. "You may be the queen..."

"But you will always be my daughter," Mom finished with a raised eyebrow.

Maxon kissed my mother's cheek, and ruffled May's hair. "You two look lovely."

It was true. May was in a short green day dress. The color really brought out the red of her hair, which was twisted into one of May's infamous braids. A soft white cardigan hugged her shoulders. I had never seen mom look so regal. The deep blue dress she wore skimmed the top of her toes. May had braided her hair and twisted it into a classy chignon. It was almost as if she were queen.

Maxon smiled at Mom's blush. "Where are the other three?"

"Gerad is playing outside, and Kenna and James will be here for dinner," Mom answered.

"Well, you are welcome to spend time here at the palace," Maxon offered.

"May, why don't you go check out the theatre or the stables?" I offered. "Mom, there's an amazing grand piano over in the great room."

May ran off to find the horses, and Mom settled into the sofa with a book. "Come, My America," Maxon offered me his arm. "I need to speak with you in private."

I took his arm and followed him up a few flights of stairs to his office. He closed the door behind us as I walked over to the large window behind his desk. Down in the garden, Gerad was playing soccer with a few of the palace guards. Their mouths were open wide with laughter as Gerad faked the ball past one and scored a goal. Maxon's arm found it's way around my waist. One of the guards grabbed my brother and lifted him into the air, all four of them laughing and joking. "I've never seen him so happy," I whispered, leaning my head onto Maxon's broad shoulder.

Maxon kissed the top of my head. "He'll be a great soccer player some day."

I looked up at my husband and smiled, knowing well that my brother could now follow his dreams because of him. "What is it that you wanted to say to me?"

"Oh!" Maxon fumbled through his desk and pulled a white box. "I found this in my father's desk after he was killed."

I lifted the lid. "My songbird!" The necklace my father had given me lay on a soft satin pillow. It looked cleaner, shinier. Tears filled my eyes.

"I had it cleaned and polished for you," Maxon said, removing it from the box, and unclasping it.

I lifted my hair, and he put it on me. With the necklace on, I felt instantly stronger. I turned back to Maxon and smiled.

"That's my beautiful wife," he placed a hand on my cheek. "My beautiful songbird."

I smiled at the nickname, and rested my arms on his shoulders. I could feel their definition through his well-tailored suit. His crown rested crookedly on his soft blonde hair, and sandy colored scruff covered his cheeks and chin. He looked very distinguished, and not at all as if he were 19. "Hey," I said, adjusting his crown atop his head. "When did YOU become king?"

Maxon smiled and kissed me, tangling his fingers in the soft tendrils of my hair. I kissed back leaning into him for support. His kisses became needier, hungrier. I started to remove his jacket, and attempted (and failed) at tossing it on his desk. I loosened his tie as his hand groped at my breast.

A knock at the door jolted us out of our trance. One of the new officers, young and guilty looking stood at the door and bowed. "Your Highness, the ambassador to New Asia would like to speak with you."

Maxon adjusted his crown. "Um, yes. I'll be right there. Thank you, Officer Porter." Porter bowed again, and left quickly.

Maxon kissed the tip of my nose. "I'm sorry, dear. I should take care of this. I promise our honeymoon will be everything you want it to be. Why don't you prepare yourself for dinner? I shouldn't be but an hour or so. Ask May and Mother if they would like to join us."

I nodded. "Yes, sir." I kissed him, and shuffled off to my room.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Don't forget to review!:) If you have nay suggestions or questions, don't hesitate to contact me:)

My evening gown was far classier than my day gown. The deep red satin was fitted to my hips, gathered in asymmetrical pleats. Silver branches were embroidered on my left hip, and reached down to the slit that was cut to my lower thigh. The train was unnecessarily long, but it added to the classiness of the gown. My shoes were the same color as my gown, and had heels longer than my hand. May had twisted my hair into a messy, but sexy up do.

I removed my songbird necklace, and searched through my jewelry box for something that fit better with the sexiness of my gown. I eventually settled on a parure set (a set of matching crown and jewels; I had learned the word from Silvia). I placed the crown on my head. It looked like a tree branching out from the top of my hear; it was studded in white diamonds, with an occasional red jewel cut like a flower. The earrings were so long, they tickled my shoulders when I turned my head, and the necklace branched down between my breasts. It was very heavy and uncomfortable. I ended up removing the necklace. My family would be at dinner as well, and I didn't want Mom having a heart attack.

I pouted and posed in the mirror while Mary fussed at an undone seam.

"So, what are you going to do when it comes down to the moment?" She asked.

It took me a while to figure out what she was taking about. I took a moment to pin the backings on the chandelier earrings I settled on, then turned toward her. "I'm not sure. I'm not exactly skilled in that department. I'm not sure how to find out either."

When Mom and Dad decided to tell me about sex, they had left it at the bare minimum. They touched only upon the scientific facts, and Dad had blushed when I prodded for more information. I knew about eggs and sperm and different types of protection, that we're not available to me at the time, but were now as per my new status. But I didn't know what to do, how to initiate it, or how to pleasure a man.

Sensing my discomfort, Mary came closer, applying the finishing touch to my lipstick. "My suggestion is checking out one of the libraries. Some of the books have ideas and information that you may be able to use. I'd start with the libraries with books from the early 2000s. I've heard rumors that the naughtiest bits are there."

When I traveled downstairs to meet everyone, Maxon's jaw practically dropped to the floor. I kept eye contact with him, and pouted sexily... Or so I hoped. When I reached him, Maxon dipped me into a kiss. We both had forgotten that we weren't the only people in the room, until Mom cleared her throat. Loudly.

During dinner, I had a difficult time concentrating on the conversation. Maxon and Mom were discussing the next episode of the Report, while May talked my ear off about her adventures in Angeles. Gerad sat, mostly silently on the other side of Maxon, who would occasionally joke around with him, ruffling his hair or stealing rolls off of his plate.

Kenna and James marveled at the food, and the maids fussed at Astra, feeding her and giggling at her soft cooing. Every one looked so nice. May was in a long periwinkle dress, very similar to my day gown. Rather than songbirds, tiny flowers be-speckled her bodice. Mom was in the same deep blue, but the gown was made of a fine silk and had off the shoulder straps. Tiny pearls were hanging from her ears. Kenna was in a pink ball gown with a large bow in the front, and James could hardly keep his eyes off of her. The boys were in starched navy blue pants, crisp white shirts, and matching navy coats. Their ties had the Illeàn crest on them, and James had on cuff links that were small raw gemstones. Even Astra looked gorgeous in a tiny cotton dress very similar to Kenna's. I was in awe with my beautiful family, and even more so because Maxon was there.

After dinner, we had settled in to the soft couches in the Women's Room with coffee, tea, and my favorite strawberry tarts. May and Gerad watched a children's show on the television, Mom had settled back into her favorite armchair with her book, and Maxon and James were on the floor, playing with tiny Astra. Kenna and I leaned against one another, watching our husbands and my giggling niece.

"He's going to be a great father," Kenna said, nodding at Maxon with a smile. He was trying to help Astra stand up and walk to James. She took a couple of steps, fell, and began to cry. Maxon immediately scooped her up, and shushed her. She whimpered a little, but became instantly more intrigued with Maxon's chandelier of medals. I smiled as she giggled and cooed at Maxon as he and James wandered off, talking about sports.

"I know, he will be," I said, smiling.

Kenna turned to make sure Mom was out of earshot, and whispered, "So, have you... You know?"

"No," I sounded almost sad at the revelation.

Kenna sighed. "America, don't play hard to get anymore. He already has you. You have to stop being coy."

"I know," I grumbled, tucking my hair behind my ear to catch a glimpse of Maxon. Astra was now sound asleep in his arms, safely snuggled into his silken shirt.

"Well, if you know, why haven't you tried?"

I looked back at my sister. "I just don't know what to do. Mary suggested looking for some books on it."

Kenna looked at our husbands, then back at me. "Well, I would do it soon. I wouldn't want to keep him waiting too long."


	4. Chapter 4

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello wonderful readers! Here is a small chapter! I'm sorry about it being so short; I'm __**currently writing a novel**__ and it has consumed much of my time!_

_I have a __**CHALLENGE **__for y'all! If you __**promote **__this story and I get up to __**25 followers or 20 favorites**__, I will post a __**deleted scene**__ that occurs just between this chapter and the following. It's not my best, but it is pretty interesting and awkward. I'm not going to say much, but it includes __**Maxon, a shower, and a TON of naughty bits that even made ME blush!**_

_Remember, PLEASE review! It encourages me to write more!_

_Message me if you have any ideas! I am very open to your suggestions! You can follow me on tumblr here. :)_

_Happy reading!_

* * *

I entered our chambers, relieved that the day was over. I knew that soon it would just be Maxon and I., and I couldn't wait to finally be alone with him. Mary was bustling around the room, packing my things for our trip.

"Oh! Lady America! I brought you some things from the library!" Mary pointed at the end table by my side of the bed. Two books rested on it. Mary watched I took them both into my hands and flipped over the top one. The title said "_The Sex and I: Pleasing Yourself to Please Your Man._" A few pages in was the diagram of both male and female sexes. I blushed and set the book down, taking the other in my hands. The front cover read "_The Kama Sutra for the 'Kama-n' Couple._" Inside there were diagrams of two people (and sometimes more) tangled up in strange pretzel like positions.

I swallowed. "You don't think this is a bit much? The first one is rather detailed, and the other seems impossible." I found a position called the Triumph Arch. "I'm not even sure if a human body should be able to bend this way."

Mary laughed. "Well, I asked the physician about them and he said that they were both good books for the _inexperienced._"

I blushed deeper. So now the royal physician knew. Great.

Mary ran over with a velvet drawstring bag. "He also gave me these."

I looked inside. There was an assortment of small plastic bottles and square foil packages. I closed it and set it with the books. "Thank you, Mary." My stomach fluttered and bubbled, but I knew she was only trying to help.

She courtesied. "Not a problem. I'm packing you some new things for the trip, and I've taken the liberty of drawing you a hot bubble bath." She stood me up and began undoing my bodice and corset.

I stretched my neck, and it popped. "That sounds nice right now."

Mary had me down to my undergarments, and tossed my gown into a nearby basket. She then removed my hair pins and crown, and tied up my loose hair. "Why don't you take your books with you? I'll make sure no one disturbs." Mary handed me a soft towel and a sheer robe.

I nodded and headed into the bathroom.

When I stepped into the steamy room, my stomach bounced. _I'm never getting used to this,_ I thought to myself as I hung up the robe and set down the books and towels.

The bathroom was at least half the size of my house back in Carolina, and the tub could fit six of me. A luscious foam covered the warm bath water in the large porcelain tub. Across the room from the bath tub was a large open shower. The floor of the shower was made of shiny, smooth river stones. The enormous shower head was mounted from the ceiling. The toilet was in a separate water closet in the far corner of the room, and an enormous sink and vanity took up an entire wall. A door nearby led to our closets.

I sighed and kept arranging and re-arranging the books and basket that contained different packaged soaps and bags of candy on the ledge of the tub before I convinced myself to get into the bath tub and begin the books.


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's Note: I just want to thank y'all so much for reading! I'm sorry my updates are pretty spaced out, but glad that you guys stick around! So the Big Moment is coming up soon, and so is a MAJOR plot twist;) So please please PLEASE keep reading!_ _Your Next Mission! If I receive __**32 Faves or 35 Followers, **__I will post another chapter from Maxon's POV. It won't be necessary to the story, BUT it will be an interesting peek into Maxon's observations of the story as it unfolds (which you'll definitely want once the plot twist hits). ANYWAY, please message me, comment, or follow me at .com a GIVE ME SOME IDEAS! I've been wanting some of your opinions about what should happen between our beloved monarchs:)_ _PS. Don't forget the deleted scene didn't really occur between the last chapter and this one, so there WILL be continuity errors._ _Happy Reading! _

* * *

My eyes fluttered open when I felt a pair of soft lips on mine.

"America... Wake up, love."

I rolled over and buried my face into my down pillow. "Five more minutes." Maxon's laugh pierced my sleepy brain and I groaned. "What time is it?"

"Six thirty. You need to eat so we can prepare for the shooting of the Report. And later, we leave for our trip."

My stomach flip-flopped at the mention of our honeymoon, and adrenaline was now pulsing through my body. I somehow managed to slowly sit up and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes.

I had fallen asleep long before Maxon had come to bed, and didn't realize he had only come to bed in a pair of light blue boxers. I swallowed as I drank in the sight of his shoulders and chest.

He laughed. "Please quit gawking and put on your robe, my dear, so I can let the maid come in and bring us our breakfast."

I slowly pulled the robe on over my nightgown, watching as Maxon yanked on his and went to open the door.

Breakfast wasn't any less magnificent as it always has been. Two halves of a toasted bagel were dressed in over easy eggs, as well as a rich green avacado, a creamy white cheese I had never had before, and thick slices of salted tomato. A beautiful fruit adorned parfait and a mug of sweet, soft brown coffee were a pleasant sweet taste to balance out the rich main course. Watching Maxon's sneaky little smiles were all that I could do to keep from inhaling my food.

"Is it good, dear?"

I smiled with a full mouth. "Amazing."

He laughed. "I've had Mary set your outfits aside for this morning."

I almost choked on my coffee. "Outfits? As in plural? Just for the morning?"

He laughed and slapped his knee, almost sending his parfait tumbling off of his tray and on to the floor. "Yeah, we have the filming, your day outfit, and something a bit more comfortable for the plane."

"I hope it's pants," I grumbled.

Maxon laughed again.

* * *

I emerged from my chambers around 8, and was completely thankful Mary had given me a comfortable gown. It was a soft white lace sheath with a strapless sweetheart neckline. My shoes were silver kitten heels, and my hair was pinned into a loose chignon. Throughout the entire time I was being primped by my maids, Mary and Kristine, Sylvia had been giving me the run down of the itinerary for the report as well as the rest of the day. I felt dizzy with all of the information, and was thankful to be out of the room. Sylvia's personality always made a room, no matter the size, feel very claustrophobic.

My family sat at the table in the dining room, all wearing their very best. Mom and May were in coordinated deep blue gowns, their hair tucked neatly into buns. Kenna, James, and Astra were wearing blue as well; Kenna was in a long cotton dress with three white stripes at the bottom, and Astra in a miniature version of the beautiful gown.

Maxon was standing next to Gerad, who I noticed was wearing a smaller version of Maxon's well tailored suit. Maxon removed his crown, and set it on top of Gerad's head. The family laughed as it fell over his eyes.

I cleared my throat as I entered the room. They all looked up at me with gleaming eyes. Maxon bowed. "My queen."

I courtesied. "My king."

After exchanging my greetings with my family, Maxon cleared his throat. "America, I have something to give to you." I walked over to him and he removed a crown from a velveteen bag. "This belonged to my mother. It was her favorite, because it was the first gift that my father gave her when she became queen. I wanted you to have it."

The crown looked very familiar. I distinctly remember it as the crown Queen Amberly wore on the Report, many events, as well as the night she died. It was a full crown made of white gold. It was completely studded in diamonds formed in beautiful shapes and swirls. I looked up at Maxon. The crown complimented the one he had on his head. He looked happy, proud and on the verge of tears. Tears clouded my vision as I courtesied, allowing my husband to place the tiara upon my head. Maxon took me in his arms and pulled me into a kiss. "Beautiful as ever," he murmured against my lips.

* * *

The filming of the Report was rather short, much like Sylvia had warned. My family was introduced and interviewed, and I was asked many questions about my new life as queen. I tried my best "not to incite rebel action," as Gavril so eloquently stated.

After the filming I was rushed upstairs to our room. A plate of grapes, cheese, and crackers were on a table, but I barely had time in between being undressed, re-dressed, curled, poked and primped to eat enough to satisfy my mid-morning hunger.

By 11:30, Maxon and I were in the back of our Town Car with Sylvia in the front seat, reminding me not to tell anyone the location of our honeymoon, and that the plane was making three stops before leaving us at our beach home in the Panama province, just east of Orleans.

When we arrived at the airport, Maxon hurried out of the car to open my door for me and help me out. Thank goodness, because I had been practically stuffed into a very fitted white pencil skirt that fell just above my knees. I had on a cream colored blouse and white blazer. My neck and ears were adorned with pearls, and my hair was tamed into a french twist, topped with a little pillbox hat with a cage-like veil poking out of the top. I balanced precariously in white pumps, and Maxon wrapped an arm around my waist to keep me from toppling over.

Throngs of people were separated from us by small red ropes. I was reminded of the first time I set foot in this airport, the day I had arrived from Carolina. Cameras flashed at Maxon and I, and we "mingled" with our adoring public. After about 20 minutes, I found my way by the entrance of the building, but Maxon was still chatting with an elderly gentleman. My stomach rumbled, and I silently begged him to hurry up.

Eventually, Maxon bounded up to me, we gave our final waves to the crowd, and made our way to the airplane.

When we climbed in, my maids greeted me with a fresh set of clothes. I was thankful to be out of the uncomfortable skirt suit, and in comfortable clothes. I quickly changed into the fitted skinny jeans, soft white t-shirt, grey cardigan and pale pink slippers. Maxon had changed into a similar outfit: dark blue jeans, a white shirt, and grey cardigan with elbow patches. He kissed me as I exited the restroom, and checked me out. "Well, one of us is going to have to change."

I laughed and he led me to my seat, then took his place across the table from me.

After we had ascended and leveled out, the maids served us lunch. I began to scarf down my vegetable soup and salad as the maids poured sweet wine.

"Are you excited, my dear?" Maxon asked, taking a tentative sip of the wine. "A whole week, just you and I." I felt his his other hand find my thigh.

I smiled, and raised my glass to his.


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's Note: Wow! Two more followers and three more favorites until we meet our goal! :D_ _Don't forget to find me on tumblr at: .com_ _Happy Reading!_

* * *

I woke up to the gentle shaking of turbulence. I was cuddled up against Maxon, reclined on one of the airline chairs. He looked up from his book as one of the kitchen maids came from behind a curtain. "If your majesties would please set up your seats, and buckle your saftey belts. We're hitting a bit of turbulence, but should arrive to our destination shortly."

I crawled into the chair next to Maxon, and he helped me buckle the belt around my waist. "Where are we?" I yawned.

"We just took off from the Dixie province," Maxon replied, not removing his eyes from his book.

I looked out the window, wondering if I could catch a glimpse of Carolina from our birds eye view. The plane skimmed over the puffy clouds.

"Wine, miss?" I turned to see Kristine, glass and bottle in hand.

"Please." She handed me a half full glass, and poured more in Maxon's. "Could you please get me a snack, Kristine?"

"Of course," She disappeared behind a curtain.

I took a sip of my wine and watched Maxon. He looked up at me after a moment and smiled. "Yes, dear?"

"Did you notice you squint when you read?"

He frowned playfully. "I do not."

"Yeah you do, and your nose scrunches up." I rubbed the bridge of his nose with my index finger. He grabbed my hand and kissed it, making my lower stomach lurch with excitement. "I love you."

He smiled. "I love you, too."

Kristine brought me a plate of sliced apples and peanut butter. "Dinner will be at the house when we arrive," Maxon said, swiping one of my apples.

I munched on them quietly while Maxon downed another glass of wine. The closer we got to Panama, the more my stomach lurched.

* * *

The Panama province is one of the smallest in Illea. It rests just between the swampy Orleans province (where Celeste once resided) and the Carribe province, which is one of the larger provinces (the 4th largest to be exact) and is made up of the panhandle of the Illean mainland, as well as a bunch of islands just south of it.

As we began to land in Panama, I could see the sun setting on the western horizon. I gasped at the sight of the small island below. The sands were white, soft looking, dotted with tall green trees. The ocean was the color of lapis lazuli, fading into a soft green by the shore.

Maxon took my hand and squeezed it.

When we landed, Maxon and I were escorted through a throng of palm trees to the house I recognized from Maxon's photo. It was much larger than I had originally anticipated, but beautiful nonetheless. Rather than stretching upward toward the sky (like the houses and skyscrapers of Angeles), this house was spread out toward the ocean. Maxon took my hand, and pulled me through the door.

The floors were a dark polished wood that creaked slightly with every step we took. It made the space seem charming, more intimate, and less intimidating. Large windows took up entire walls and were covered in heavy white drapes. There was an enormous light blue sofa in front of a fireplace and large television. The wall that didn't have a window was filled with photos of past royal families, including Maxon's parents. While the maids quickly hustled our luggage to our room, I caught Maxon looking at the photos longingly, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes. I squeezed his hand, and he smiled at me sadly. "It's my first time being here without them. They would be proud that I'm starting my reign off by spending time here. This was their favorite place."

I hugged him and kissed his chin. "I know, Maxon. Soon, we'll have our pictures up there, too."

Maxon grinned and kissed me. "I know, but we really need to get started on our family to do that."

My lower stomach clenched and unclenched.

Once the maids had finished unpacking, I was introduced to Miss Zamira, the chef and housekeeper. She was a beautifully plump old woman, with leathery skin the color of coffee with a lot of cream. Her black hair was braided and pulled into a slick knot on the top of her head, and rather than the usual maid's uniform, she wore a bright printed dress. She greeted Maxon and I with kisses and hugs, letting us know that dinner would be prepared and waiting on the terrace in an hour.

Maxon led me to our bedroom so we could wash up for dinner. An enormous bed was pushed up against a wall, and a large comfy looking rug covered the floor. A white lace canopy was draped all the way around the bed. The lit fireplace was low and glowing, and large candles were lit in tall blue vases all around the room; it created a dreamy atmosphere, and looking at Maxon in the glow of the candle light made me feel as if I needed him right then and there.

I swallowed, racking my mind for information from the books I read last night, suddenly feeling forgetful. Just as I had mustered up the courage to make my move, Maxon turned to me, kissed my forehead in the least romantic way possible, and smiled. "Why don't you wash up in here, and I'll meet you on the veranda when you're done?"

I inhaled and nodded as Maxon left the room, closing the door behind him. I sighed and walked into the bathroom, flicking the light on behind me.

The bathroom was much smaller than the one at the palace, but still beautiful. The largest wall was made up entirely of a shimmery glass, the kind that you could see through on one side, but not on the other. I could see the ocean lapping up against the sand. It was as if the large bathtub was sitting right on the beach. I trudged over to the mirror. My eyeliner was smudged, my hair frizzy and untamed... No wonder Maxon wasn't into me.

I sighed at my reflection. "Clearly we have some work to do."


	7. Chapter 6 and a Half (Maxon)

HHere is a short chapter from Maxon's point of view. I'm sorry for the very very late update? I'm currently writing my own full-length original novel that is up for publication! I'll keep you all updated with that. For now, enjoy thins short chapter, and I SWEAR I will finish writing the next one some time this week!

Everything needed to be perfect.

I nervously paced on the dock. The gentle lapping of the water luring me into a false sense of security.

And I had to pee.

I glanced nervously at our small tent. A soft filmy mesh encircled a soft pad, covered with fluffy white pillows. A table, low to the ground was pushed off to the side, covered in candles. Four bottles of sweet wine sat in ice in a short, stout metal bucket. The ocean was the color of America's eyes in the fading sunlight.

Miss Zamira lit the last few candles on the table and sighed. "I don't think you have anything to worry about, dearest. She'll love it."

I sighed. "I just..." She looked at me with stern eyes. "I know. " I returned her smile and brushed sand off of my white cotton pants.

"Now I'll have Sam bring out the supper shortly. You two have fun." Zamira turned to the house, but stopped short. "Oh, and Mr. Maxon? There is something for you there on the table."

In front of an arrangement of flowers was a small, blue box. I peeked inside and my knees nearly collapsed underneath me.

Rubbers.

The hair on the back of my neck rose, and I hastily shoved them into my pocket. When I looked around to see if anyone had seen me, I caught a glimpse of America, standing on the sand, waiting for me.


	8. Chapter 7

Author's Note: here's the next chapter! If you would like the upcoming on in Maxon's point of view, please comment/review with the word "Maxon." If you would like it in America's point of view, please comment/review with the word "America." Happy reading!

I had changed about three or four times before settling on a sultry deep blue balconette bra and matching string panty and garter belt. Tiny crystals were sewn into the lace in little sunburst patterns. My maids had obviously taken great care to make the garments as sweet (and sexy) as possible.

After rolling up my stockings and clipping them into my belt, I tossed on a soft, dark blue gown. It was held up at my neck with a thin strap which fell into a low neckline; the delicate beading that decorated the bustier peeked through the folds. The fabric gathered at my hip, and dropped off in to the skirt. With each small movement I made, the skirt seemed to dance, and further opening the slit that exposed the delicate garter on my thigh.

I had managed to tame the soft tangle of red curls on top of my head into a french twist, held together with a silver comb, speckled in stars. My lips were painted in a red that only rivaled the blood of a proud Illeàn.

Before leaving my room, I caught a glimpse of myself in the floor length mirror. I didn't look like me. I looked savage. The glitter in my eye, paired with the risqué gown made me look dangerous. My lips curved up in a sly smile. I felt powerful.

Unfortunately, the feeling didn't remain with me very long. The further out on that sand, and the closer to Maxon I was, the more and more I felt like running back into the house to put on a sweatshirt and pants.

Maxon stood on the dock in crisp white linens. The pants were ironed and starched stiff, but the shirt he wore billowed in the breeze like a sail.

At first, I didn't think he had seen my ensemble, and almost convinced myself for a single fleeting moment that I would be able to run back into the house and toss on something sweeter, something more me. But at the very second I was about to turn back, the wind picked up, caught my skirt. The train and slit fanned out and revealed a significant amount of skin. This obviously caught the King of Illeá's attention.

When I reached him, Maxon fell into a bow, his eyes shifting back and forth between my breasts and my bare thigh. I returned the courtesy, then took his arm as he led me out to our meal.

I sat next to him on the plush pad. I had to hoist the skirt of my dress up and fan it out to keep myself from getting tangled up in the fabric. The clips of my garter belt were stretched taut against my thigh. Maxon caught a glimpse of it, and he audibly gulped.

He poured us a couple of glasses of wine, and we dined on Miss Zamira's cooking. A trio of very large, well seasoned seared prawns covered in a colorful salsa rested on a bed of light green noodles.

I only picked at the meal, my stomach rolling nervously inside me, but I nearly finished an entire bottle of wine myself. I leaned back on my palms and looked up at the night sky. The stars were vivid amongst the deep color of the night sky.

"America." I turned to Maxon. He held out a small thing that looked like a miniature stone bowl. A grayish, white goopy thing was in the middle. I must have made a face, because Maxon laughed and said, "It's an oyster. Zamira says that they're a natural aphrodisiac." He flushed at the last words. He put it to my lips. "Just taste and swallow. Don't chew." He let the goop fall into my mouth. It was salty, but not bad.

I knocked back a few more, and another couple glasses of wine. By now I was practically floating, wondering why Maxon had hardly spoken, and, more importantly, why he hadn't made a move.

"America," Maxon whispered.

I turned to him and looked up at him through my lashes. "Maxon."

"I've been meaning to say..."

"Yes?"

He remained silent for a moment, then burst out laughing. "You look absolutely ridiculous in that outfit." I fumed, my face turning as red as my cheeks. Maxon touched my cheek. "America, you look beautiful, but that dress, the hair, the makeup. It's not you." I felt my face relax. "Darling, if you keep looking at me like that, I may not need many more oysters."

I sat up and sighed. "Would you prefer I changed?"

"No, dear, unless you wish." He busied himself with uncorking another bottle of wine.

I stood to return to the house. I knew I should have worn something else. Stupid, America. Stupid, stupid.

In the middle of my internal rant, I absentmindedly untied the halter around my neck. The slinky dress slid to the dock floor. My lower stomach tingled with anticipation, feeling naughty at being near naked in the cold sea air.

I turned back to Maxon, who had finally pried open the bottle and was now pouring a second glass.

"Is this more me, Maxon?" I asked.


	9. Chapter 8

**MAXON's POV**

I didn't mean to offend America; I knew she was trying hard to show her affection, but she was terrible at it.

Just like I was terrible at using that damn corkscrew.

I fought with the bottle of wine. "Would you prefer I changed?"

I didn't want her to. Obviously, she looked amazing. But I would rather spare her from witnessing my emotional breakdown over opening this bottle of wine. "No, dear, unless you wish." I tugged. Nothing.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her stand. I felt ridiculous for offending her. As I was about to give up on the bottle to apologize, the cork crumbled into the wine.

"Is this more me, Maxon?"

I glanced up at America and almost dropped the bottle of wine. She was wearing the most delicate bra and panty set I could ever imagine. And she was to die for in that shade of blue.

I set down the bottle and stumbled to my feet. Standing this close to her, I could see her trembling and feel the warmth from her body. "No. But America, you look amazing."

She sighed and looked at her feet. "I tried so hard to make myself look sexy. I figured, if I looked sexy then you wouldn't realize how nervous I was about all this."

I signed and took her cheek in my palm. "America, you don't have to 'become sexy.' I think you're absolutely perfect the way you are. You don't need all of this extra fluff. You just need to be you."

She glanced up at me through her long beautiful eyelashes. "Really?"

"Really." She fell into my arms and I held her. I saw the comb in her hair and pulled it out, letting her beautiful red locks grace her shoulders. America leaned back, and I drank her in.

"Is that better?" She asked, twisting a long strand of her hair between her fingers.

"Here," I said, unclasping the garter belt. She sat down on the mattress and allowed me to remove her stockings. I grabbed the corkscrew pocket knife combo and cut off the garter belt.

She looked at the discarded pile of clothing on the pier, then back up at me. "Now?"

I smiled at her. Hunger to take her settled into my lower stomach. "Almost." I lay her back on the bed and kissed her collarbone before ripping her bra off of her body. Her beautiful breasts spilled out of the cups. America gasped as I caressed them. "Now you are more you."


	10. Chapter 9 (America)

Maxon's kisses stared off sweet and slow. I could feel his fingertips trailing down to my hips, beneath the waistband of my underwear.

In true Maxon-style, he paused and looked up at me intently, as if he was asking me if what he was doing was okay. I shakily nodded my head, and he turned back to my underwear.

Moments passed and nothing happened. I wiggled my hips;he didn't move an inch. "Maxon, if you fell asleep, so help me God I wi-"

"I'm not asleep, I'm just trying to figure out what the best approach is."

I sighed. "Christ, Maxon."

"What?"

"You choose _now_ of all times to become overly analytical of your bedroom guerrilla tactics?"

He sat back on his haunches and laughed as I pushed myself up into a half sitting position. "Bedroom guerrilla tactics?"

"Yeah. You kind of ruined the moment." I huffed.

"I did?"

"Yes, I was feeling bold."

Maxon laughed and kneeled in front of me so we were practically nose to nose. "America, you are nothing but bold. You are a walking rebellion with red hair."

My stomach warmed. Me? Bold? I didn't buy it. During the Selection, I hid my discomfort with my body, my feelings behind fancy gowns and poorly thought out choices that pissed off the wrong people. I was novelty, not demure like Kriss, not sexy like Celeste. I was nothing but an ill-tempered, red head with crazy ideas and a pretty dress. And now that Maxon had me and only me, I was terribly worried that I would disappoint him.

As if he could hear my thoughts, Maxon touched my cheek. "America, I love you. I love everything about you. You wouldn't be here if I wasn't absolutely and irrevocably head over heels for you."

I buried my face in my hands. "I know. I'm just a huge mess."

He laughed and kissed me. "It's okay. I'm rather fond of messes." I smiled back at him, grateful for him, to him. After a moment or two of looking in each other's eyes, Maxon exaggeratedly looked between my legs. "And now for my plan of attack."

I laughed and leaned back on my arms. "And what might that be, King Maxon."

"Full force." He got on top of me and kissed me fiercely, his hand gently fondling my breast. I moaned in his mouth and he pulled away, gently trailing his kisses down my stomach until he reached my hips. "Ah, my old nemesis," Maxon said, gently tugging on my waistband. I almost rolled my eyes, but then Maxon grasped my underwear with both hands and ripped them apart in one swift move. My stomach clenched in excitement.

Eventually, Maxon had found his way to the bed. He touched me gently, teasing me, allowing me to feel more comfortable.

I helped him remove his shirt, and the breeze caught it. It landed on the pier, one arm dangling in the water. I almost stopped him to retrieve it, but he caught me in a kiss, dipping me back down onto the bed.

Kneeling above me, in the candlelight and the glow of the moon, Maxon looked like a celestial God. The wind tousled his blonde hair, entwining it with the stars. He lowered his trousers, allowing his manhood to spill out. I could feel his hardness between my legs. My stomach lurched. This was it.

Maxon lowered his lips to mine. "Are you ready, America?"

In that single moment, and in the way he said my name, I knew that things would never be the same. But I wasn't scared. Instead, I had a moment of clarification. My future was in the hands of my Maxon, my husband, and I wouldn't change it for the world.

"Yes," I whispered, my lips brushing on his ear lobe.

Maxon pressed his forehead to mine, and we locked our gazes. Below, I could feel his hardness pressing against me, then into me.

It wasn't painful, like I had heard it would be so many times before. Instead, the feeling of him inside me was warm and liberating. He pushed his full length in and paused. "Does it hurt?"

It didn't. Surprisingly, it was quite the contrary. Instead of responding, I rocked my hips toward his, and Maxon responded with a deep groan. I continued this motion until he began following suit. Maxon leaned back in his knees, driving himself deeper inside me. With each thrust, I could feel myself teetering over the point of no return.

And then it hit me. I bit my lip to keep from moaning out loud, and my vision quickly tunneled through the pleasure. As the throes of passion slowly came to an end, Maxon bent over to kiss my lips. "It's okay, my love," he whispered, thrusting into me a couple more times before allowing himself to release on my belly.

Maxon and I lay there under the stars for a while. He held me, the sound of water lapping up against the pier was a soft lullaby. Maxon's hand gently fondling my breast was the only thing keeping me awake.

"That was amazing," he said, kissing the top of my head.

"I know," I replied, snuggling closer to him. "It's a shame about the lingerie though."

Maxon glanced over at the ripped scraps of fabric littering the pier. "Well, they shouldn't have made them so difficult to remove."

"Still. What a waste of lace." Maxon chuckled. "Don't tell Mary what you did. She'll have your head on a silver platter."

Maxon rolled over and kissed me. "But it was so worth it."


	11. Chapter 10

I woke up, nude, beneath the soft white duvet in the bedroom. The barest amount of light from the rising sun peeked in through the open windows, and the fireplace crackled, providing warmth from the brisk, yet mild, morning air.

Maxon snored softly, holding me from behind, his bare chest pressed up against my back. I could feel his stiffness pressed up against me, and my loins ached.

Maxon had taken my virginity. Last night raced through my mind at a million miles an hour. I didn't feel any different. A small drawstring bag on the night stand caught my eye, and with a slight moment of panic, I realized that we may have failed to use a prophylactic last night.

My stomach leapt. Could I be pregnant? I thought through the haze of the wine from last night, and remembered him releasing onto my stomach and chest. At least... He did the first time.

After we had finished the initial consummation of our marriage, I had destroyed nearly an entire bottle of dessert wine on my own, cork and all. Then Maxon and I had made our way to the sand, then in the ocean. I remember his persistent thrusts meeting the climax of each wave that crashed against us, the strong current driving him deeper inside me.

And that's all I remembered.

I resisted the urge to roll over and shake Maxon awake. I don't know why I was so concerned about becoming pregnant. The castes were dissolved, enjoying marital sex was not against the law, nor were extra marital affairs. Plus, I had access to the best doctors in the country, and they could easily abort a pregnancy.

And yet, I thought, this was my job now. I was expected to produce an heir to the throne before too long. And I wanted children, right? I imagined tiny Maxons running about. I smiled. That's kind of cute. And then I imagined a tiny version of me. Oh, God. What kind of wicked hell spawn will I produce?

I suppose my exasperated sigh was a bit too loud, because I felt Maxon stirring beside me. I looked back at him as his eyes fluttered open.

"Hey," he mumbled to me, sleepily kissing my shoulder.

"Hi," I responded, trying to keep my voice level.

"How did you sleep?"

"Fine."

Maxon looked at me confused and sat up. "Brr," he commented, stretching his arms.

"What?"

"I thought I was married to the Queen of Illea, not the Queen of Ice."

"What is that supposed to mean?" It came out far more defensive than I had intended it to.

"What has you so worked up, America?" I felt my cheeks go red. Now I'd have to admit everything I've been stressing about.

I stayed silent for a moment, then quietly asked, "Am I pregnant?"

Maxon looked at me. "Why would you be? Unless, there's something you need to tell me."

I shook my head. "No. I mean, you didn't finish inside me he first time, but I don't remember what happened after we ended up on the beach." Maxon just continued staring. "And I don't think we used a condom, because I left the bag in here." I reach over and handed him the bag of condoms from Mary.

Maxon stayed quiet for a moment. "America, I didn't finish inside you. I had rubbers of my own. I slipped on one before we made love on the beach. And I didn't finished because you passed out, and I had to carry you in here." How embarrassing. "I rinsed you off in the bathtub, and brought you to bed."

I placed a hand over my eyes. "God, I'm so stupid." Maxon said nothing. "I wish I could have spared you from my hysterics."

Maxon sighed. "I didn't know the prospect of carrying my children was so terrifying for you."

"No, Maxon, it's not that. I just-"

"You just what, America?"

I racked my brain for something to say. If I said I wasn't scared, I would be lying, but I didn't want him to think I was unwilling to have his children. "I just... I am scared, Maxon," I admitted. He looked troubled, but I continued. "But it won't stop me from giving you children. I would just like some time to enjoy all of this before we get down to actually planning for our family." His eyes began to soften. "I'd like to finally enjoy having you to myself for once. Before we were married, I had to share you with 35 other girls. Now, I finally have you, all of you, and-"

"America."

"Yes, Maxon?"

He took my hand and looked up at me. "You always had me. All of me. My entire heart and soul were always right in the palm of your hands, from the moment I saw you. That will never change."


End file.
